Julia let out a small laugh.

“I know. Weren’t we having such a wonderful time last summer? I just can’t forget it.”

Last summer referred to the time Cornelia had spent with Julia, acting as her guide around the island.

Julia had been full of curiosity about every corner of Fiora, and Cornelia wasn’t cold-hearted enough to ignore the interest of a noble young lady who had come to the restaurant. One outing became two, showing her the sights in person, and somehow it had led to them growing this close.

Even so, she never imagined it would go so far as to influence Julia’s summer holiday plans. The sincerity in Julia’s warmth left Cornelia at a complete loss for words.

“You’ll accept it, won’t you? Promise me you’ll wear it tomorrow, no matter what?”

As though she had seen right through Cornelia’s bewildered state, Julia pressed her advantage and asked.

“…Isn’t that cheating?”

“All learned through socializing, my dear.”

Julia gave a smug little hum through her nose and rose from the bed. She nudged Cornelia toward the door.

“Now give me time for my afternoon nap. And wear it nicely.”

To think she had been the one to call her over. Before Cornelia could even gather herself, she was already standing outside Julia’s room.

“Goodbye, Cori.”

Julia flashed a bright smile and slammed the door shut.

“Miss!”

Cornelia called out to her belatedly, but there was no response. The hallway fell silent in an instant. Cornelia let out a long sigh.

Only the yellow linen dress remained, nestled quietly in her arms.

* * *

The next morning.

Before the fishing boats were due to return, Cornelia boarded a carriage.

The brilliant sunshine particular to the Caline Sea poured in through the windows of the rattling carriage. Cornelia fidgeted self-consciously with her linen dress, the kind that stayed cool even under the harsh sun.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this….”

She muttered to herself for no real reason.

She had, in the end, put on the dress Julia had pressed into her arms. She had gone back and forth between it and a comfortable cotton dress, but she hadn’t wanted to hurt Julia’s feelings by choosing something else.

The way the fabric felt against her skin was deeply unfamiliar.

Ever since her parents had passed and she had come to the island following her relative Omar, she had lived in nothing but plain cloth.

‘I hope no one mistakes me for middle class or nobility.’

The thought struck her out of nowhere, and Cornelia gave a quiet, wry smile.

Her father, born of noble blood, had married her mother, a commoner, for love and then turned his back on his family entirely. She had lived as a commoner under them ever since. How long ago that all seemed now.

She had stayed briefly at a viscount’s estate when she was young, but she couldn’t remember a single thing about the etiquette she had learned back then. Her surname had long since become her mother’s maiden name.

Anyone who looked at her could plainly see she was a country girl of common birth. Who would ever mistake her for anything else? Cornelia set aside the needless worry and turned her gaze out the window.

The carriage came to a stop after about thirty minutes. She called back a loud reply to the coachman announcing their arrival, then stepped down from the carriage.

A breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of the sea, the kind that belonged to early summer.

Merchants moving briskly, the cries of seagulls, the glittering surface of the water, and above it all, the creaking of ships.

Cornelia looked around and made her way toward the area near the empty vessels. From what she could tell, none of the fishing boats had returned yet. She lingered nearby, waiting for them to come in.

After a good while, it was a passenger ferry that appeared first, before any of the fishing boats.

Boooo. The foghorn bellowed out across the water, and the hull cut through the waves as the ship drew toward the harbor.

The very passenger ferry that Tesoro would be on. The deck, small from this distance, was crowded with people gazing out at the island.

“Oh.”

But then, well behind that passenger ferry, the silhouettes of small boats began appearing one after another. Fishing boats. She quickly ducked behind a nearby tree.

Thud, thud.

Before long, the fishing boats drew close to the pier and began mooring one by one. The fishermen disembarked, and delivery workers gradually gathered around them.

“Oh.”

Cornelia spotted Pepe among them. He was standing near a rough-looking fisherman, apparently trying to receive his fish.

She carefully shifted to a tree closer to Pepe. The fisherman planted himself in the middle of the stall, and when someone brought over a scale, he looked around at the delivery workers and spoke gruffly.

“Right, everyone check your own.”

With his thick, brawny arms, he lifted the various crates of fish onto the scale one by one. Sea bass, sea bream, along with rockfish, mackerel, sardines…. It seemed he was verifying the weights in front of the buyers.

‘No one’s complaining, so the weights must be accurate.’

She was still turning it over in her mind when Pepe received a crate from the fisherman and loaded it onto his cart. Cornelia steadied herself and prepared to move. Pepe would be heading to the stop to hitch his horse to the cart.

“Hm?”

But something was off. Pepe wasn’t going where she expected. Instead of heading toward the stop, he was pulling the cart himself and leaving the harbor.

Why? She couldn’t make sense of why he was skipping every step and walking straight out.

“Wait.”

Her feet moved on their own. The original plan of following him by carriage was out. There was nothing for it but to chase after the cart on foot.

Terrified of losing sight of him, Cornelia hurried after Pepe, her heart hammering in her chest.

After a few minutes, Pepe finally stopped.

It was a residential street a few blocks from the harbor. In front of a modest, ordinary home.

Cornelia let out a hollow laugh.

“Ha.”

She had a feeling. She knew what Pepe was about to do.

Pepe picked out three sardines from the cart. He set the fish on top of a wooden basket and knocked on the front door three times.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Good morning, Pepe.”

A round, stout woman opened the door with a bright smile. She received the fish without a word and handed over a few coins.

“He really was skimming.”

Her teeth ground together and her head burned with anger.

The fish that had just been passed to that home were all supposed to have been delivered to the restaurant. Was this truly happening every single day? All for Pepe’s pocket money?

She held back the urge to storm out and confront him on the spot. She waited until Pepe sold a mackerel to one house and a small rockfish to another.

Then she waited for Pepe to head back toward the harbor before stepping forward and shouting at the top of her lungs.

“Pepe!”

The back of Pepe, who had been about to hitch his horse to the cart, visibly stiffened. He turned around slowly, his face draining to white as though he had seen a ghost. She thought he would stop there, but his head whipped to the side and his movements turned frantic.

“Pepe! Where do you think you’re going! You’ve already been caught, so why are you running!”

Despite Cornelia’s protests, Pepe swiftly hitched the cart to the horse. He climbed up onto the driver’s seat and yanked the reins. The horse whinnied and stamped its hooves. As if terrified of being chased, the cart crashed and clattered its way through the crowded harbor crowd and bolted.

Cornelia broke into a hurried trot, her urgency rising. But there was no way a person could catch a horse. The back of the cart grew smaller and smaller until it was gone. Cornelia was left alone in the middle of the bustling harbor.

“Unbelievable. What do you think you’re accomplishing by running away?”

Cornelia caught her breath in short bursts. At this point, there was nothing left to do but go back to the restaurant and explain the situation to Omar directly.

It wouldn’t be a problem. Cornelia had grown up no different from Omar’s own child. His trust lay entirely with her. Not with Pepe.

But just then, a gust of wind swept through, and the hat sitting on top of her head lifted away with a flutter. Startled, Cornelia threw her arm straight up into the air.

“Oh!”

But the hat had already caught the wind and was drifting far out of reach.

Afraid it might blow toward the sea and be lost, Cornelia grew frantic. She fixed her eyes on the hat, grabbed her skirt, and broke into a scrambling run.

In the middle of that chaos, the intervention of a stranger was something she hadn’t anticipated. Cornelia flinched as a man’s arm suddenly entered her field of vision.

“Huh?”

A long arm reached up and plucked the hat cleanly out of the air. Startled, Cornelia tried to stop herself and missed her footing. At the same moment, a firm arm wrapped around her waist as she stumbled.

“Careful.”

A low, unhurried voice admonished her.

With the stranger’s support, she barely avoided landing flat on the ground.

Cornelia pressed a hand to her racing heart and looked up at him. Because he had his back to the sun, she couldn’t make out his face. All she could distinguish was his broad shoulders and his neat, well-kept hair.

“Th, thank you.”

“Not at all.”

He lifted her upright without any apparent effort. The man was large, both in build and in height. To meet his eyes, Cornelia tilted her head back, and then, in the light of the morning sun, his face came into view.

Cornelia stood there, dazed, as though she had fallen under a spell.